What's the situation?

What the hell?

Who fished me out of the river? Or is it ......

I began to doubt my eyes again, and rubbed and rubbed them, but the scene before me had not changed in the slightest, and the clothes I was wearing were still the same.

It stands to reason that even if I was picked up from the river, my clothes were always wet, and even if I roasted them over the fire, they wouldn't dry so quickly.

Is it a dream?

Was everything that happened before a dream scene?

I felt incredible, and at the same time I had a sense of unreality, as if I couldn't tell what was real and what was illusionary.

A panic spread rapidly, driving me to get up from bed quickly, and as soon as I stepped out of the room, I looked

"The Years I Was a Murder House Intermediary" Chapter 40 Weasel New Year's Greetings are in the middle of the hand, please wait a while,

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